Sunday, December 28, 2014

Posted here to enable Facebook accessibility to FB Friends. No pictures because BlogSpot is suffering a picture loading hiccup. Check FB for pics.

Dear Ones,

This is sent
with the hope that you and your families and communities are enjoying these
special days; that they have enriched your relationships, extended your love
and made memories for a lifetime. As I begin to write and look back on this
year I am amazed at the amount and variety of events that have transpired; all
the challenges, all the joys, all the new experiences (some that I would not
trade at all and others that I could have easily done without). Where does the
time go and how does life get so complicated?

Late in 2013 we welcomed Matilda Anne Pleva, daughter of Teresa and
Andrew, into the world. She appears above back in October with her adoring cousin
Nicholas, son of Kim and Jonathan, and now almost 11 years old. Here he is in
another picture with his brother Benjamin who just celebrated his 8th
birthday. Jonathan and family moved from Waterbury, CT to Chelmsford, MA to
which he was transferred as a Boy Scout Council Executive. Theirs is a very
busy family.

Now little Matilda has a new cousin who arrived on November 1, 2014, Harrison
Cooper Pleva, son of Heidi and Matthew. He is just adorable and I can’t wait to
get my hands on him again. Heidi and Matthew also juggle a great deal in their
lives with regular jobs and their shop “Art Riot” on John Street in Kingston.
Matt’s tour de force this year was painting an outdoor mural (35 x 65ft.)
depicting historic Kingston and the Old Dutch Church. Hard on the heels of
Harrison’s birth came the installation of another holiday window designed by
Matt for the Blue Cashew shop in Rhinebeck.

Teresa and Andrew are about to close on purchase of a house whose
history will be a blessing to them. In a few weeks they will moved into 41
Lafayette Avenue, Kingston just 2 blocks from the house in which Andrew grew up
and where Matthew and family live now. Everyone really wanted to be near each
other and create family for the children. The 1920s vintage house belonged for
over 50 years to a couple who were pillars of the church and most generous
souls so a loving spirit will surround them there. The house which was very
well maintained has an extra bedroom and full bath on the first floor, a
wrap-around porch, three 2nd floor bedrooms and a walk-up attic with
some finished space and built-in cedar closet. The new life and new homes are
answers to prayer and a call to gratitude at the end of this year.

There were challenges too during which the appeal to God was for the
gifts of wisdom and compassion. In May my mother who was being treated for
pneumonia fell during the night in her assisted living bedroom. She got a bad
gash on her head and lay in a pool of blood for a long time. Nothing was broken
but she required hospitalization for a week and then nursing home placement to
recoup from the fall and the pneumonia. So I searched for a better choice than
the 3 other nursing homes she has spent time in during the last 2 years. We
settled on Putnam Ridge in Brewster, NY about a 35 minute drive from me and an
hour less in travel time then to Tuxedo for my sister living in Connecticut.
Rose was still heavily involved in the task of selling my parents’ house. That
was accomplished in July.

When my mother went to the
nursing home she just wanted to be left alone to sleep and had to be fed at
meals. We assured the staff that she was walking independently the day before
her fall and would come back to life. By the middle of July she had indeed
become herself but all agreed she could no longer live safely in assisted
living. So Putnam Ridge has become her permanent home.

No sooner was the decision made than we learned that her brother, my Uncle
Joseph Milazzo age 82, had collapsed in a laundromat in Margate, FL near his
home.I flew down on July, 26. His
condition was very poor and it was clear that he could not live alone any
longer. I worked furiously to get necessary legal documents created, organize
his papers, put his condo into some order, dispose of a great deal and
supervise his care as he went from hospital to nursing home, back to hospital
and then back to nursing home in the space of 2 weeks. Since he was too ill to
travel on a commercial plane and I was unable to stay in Florida permanently,
we decided to fly him to NY via private air ambulance jet and place him in the
nursing home with my mother. They enjoyed a loving reunion in mid-August. But
his condition continued to deteriorate. Although we knew his condition was poor
we were surprised by his sudden death on October 3rd. He now rests
in St. John’s Cemetery in Queens where his mother was buried in 1932 when he
was just 3 months old. My uncle worked hard all of his life as a master carpet
mechanic. He never married; he lived well but not extravagantly. He played the
market and later settled into reliable investments. As generous as he was in
life he could be as generous in death. At this time both my sister and I are
dealing with all the responsibilities which follow upon the deaths of both my uncle
my father. We have learned a great deal; everything is very complicated even
with the aid of lawyers and accountants.

My mother is being well taken care of but the sight of her in the
Memory Wing of the nursing home among patients with similar dementia symptoms
and many others so much farther along the way in their gradual total departure
from reality is often difficult to bare. I remind myself that her manner
indicates that she is nothing but content and feeling safe. She walks with a
walker but is getting even slower. She does not remember that her brother was
there and she rarely asks about my father. We worry only about falls and
pneumonia.

For years I have not traveled too much with exception of trip to
Ireland in 2011. This year brought trips to Sioux Falls, SD in January to
transfer our sewing business to another community; to Indianapolis, IN for an
Association of Contemplative Sisters leadership meeting; to Florida during the
summer; and to St. Louis in September for ACS national meeting. While these were
all lovely experiences I find air travel very uncomfortable and arduous.

A month before the trip to Florida I had hip surgery to correct some
unanticipated problems after hip replacement in 2010 – residual pain from a muscle
rubbing against the artificial hip joint and also a bone spur beneath it.
Surgery at NYU Hospital for Joint Diseases was a great experience – just a 2
day stay.

Our community continues to live the blessing of sharing a monastery
with the Carmelite nuns. In May we moved our three sisters from assisted living
in Mt. Vernon, NY to the infirmary (Lourdes Health Care) of the School Sisters
of Notre Dame in Wilton CT. Sr. Mary had begun to experience seriously
declining health. We supported her through a number of hospitalizations both
before and after the move to Wilton. Our much beloved sister passed into the
arms of God on December 9. So at this writing, as we decorate for Christmas, we
are still processing the loss of our sister. In February, we had supported the
Carmelites in their loss of Sr. Michael Ann, a very dear and wise person who
was the first prioress of the union of three Carmelite communities which came
together here in 1998.

Each day I seem to be playing catch up with the list of things to do;
paper work and phone calls for family matters, secretarial work for the
community, household chores, managing our various sites on the internet (see
links below), writing for blogs and other publications, knitting for our
on-line shop and for the new babies in my life. But distractions abound and
other things come along to take precedence. I try to visit my mother once a
week. When I can I find time to do the writing I am drawn to – opinion or
memoire pieces that I publish to my blog, an essay for our Order’s
international publication, and lately meaningful obituaries.

So often I find myself moving into
default mode and thinking I should call Dad and Mom about some article I have
seen that would interest them; share a story about the new ones in the family; tell
them about something wonderful I found among my uncle’s things; ask for a
recipe or practical advice; or seek philosophical discussion of the fate of our
world. Then I face the fact that none of this is possible any longer. I have
passed into the mode of being the one who receives those calls from my own
children who want to share an achievement, recount the vagaries of the home
buying experience these days, tell of a child’s new stage of development, or ask
about advisable treatment for childhood illness. All very gratifying, but also
reminding of years passing all too quickly. Another reminder came in the death
of my father’s best friend, Vito Capuco of Annapolis, MD in September. They met
at City College in 1948. As I moved among his dear family and their many
friends at wake and funeral the memories came in almost overwhelming waves.

I look forward to the year 2015 which will include some travel, time to
do some things pushed aside for too long. It will include celebration of our
Sr. Lydia’s 50th jubilee of vows; Jonathan running in the Boston
Marathon in a fundraising effort on behalf of a charity which emerged from the
Newtown tragedy; Teresa and Andrew moving into their new home.

Have been praying for all of you throughout the Advent Season, our Christmas Novena and
these days of the solemn feast of the Incarnation. I am drawn particularly to
the needs of long married couples experiencing the challenges of ageing, the
suffering of refugees and those enduring violence of any kind, as well as the
fate of our planet.

Thank you for the gift you are to me and for the continuing
relationship which is only blessing. Best wishes to you and yours for the
coming year. Stay in touch. It means so much.

May God bless us all.With the
assurance of prayers and with much love,

Friday, December 19, 2014

Obituary Tribute to Sister Mary McCaffrey1927 - 2014“I have found heaven on earth, since heaven is God, and God is in my soul. My mission in heaven will be to draw souls, helpingthem to go out of themselves to cling to God.” Elizabeth of the Trinity, OCD

Sister Mary
Teresa McCaffrey of the Redemptoristine community residing in the Monastery of
the Incarnation, Beacon, NY, died on December 9, 2014 at Lourdes Health Care
Center,infirmary of the School Sisters
of Notre Dame in Wilton, CT at the age of 87 years following a lengthy illness.
Sister Mary was the first of four children born to Teresa Alice Taylor and
Daniel Joseph McCaffrey on October 6, 1927 in Brooklyn, NY. She is survived by
her brothers Daniel and Gerard (Barbara) and a sister Kathleen (John Janny),
twelve nieces and nephews, their fifteen children and eight nuns who shared
vowed life with her in the Order of the Most Holy Redeemer.

Sister Mary
first entered religious life in 1947 in the Congregation of the Sisters of St.
Joseph of Brentwood, Long Island. After professing vows in 1949 as Sr. Teresa Miriam
she was placed in charge of large classes of little boys in the parish schools
of Our Lady of Perpetual Help and St. Mary, Mother of Jesus in Brooklyn.During 12 years with the Josephites she
obtained a BA degree from St. John’s University.

Responding
to a call within a call, she entered the contemplative monastic order of the
Redemptoristine Nuns, located in Esopus, NY, in 1959. In humble obedience and
with great courage she became a novice for the second time joining a young
community creating a new monastic foundation on the grounds of Mt. St.
Alphonsus Redemptorist Major Seminary.There
she professed Solemn Vows in 1961 as Sr. Mary Teresa of the Holy Family.

By middle
age Sr. Mary was enduring ever increasing physical infirmity. Yet she remained faithful
in devotion to God, her contemplative vocation and personal devotion to the
Holy Eucharist. Always available to her community, she served as Council Secretary
for numerous terms, presided over the monastery library and gave willing ear
and wise guidance to many new members. The lay associates of the monastery also
benefitted from her direction. On behalf of many friends and benefactors she
exercised the apostolate of the pen in generous correspondence. Sr. Mary
rejoiced in her experience of over 70 years association with the Redemptorist
Congregation; as a child in their parish, a teacher in their schools, and as
neighbor to their seminary in Esopus. She influenced many young boys
considering the priesthood and later became friend, confidant, informal
spiritual director or prayer partner to many Redemptorist priests and brothers.
Throughout her life she was a golden thread woven into the fabric of her family
where she remained a source of unity and wisdom and a model of faith and
prayer.

Funeral
arrangements are under the direction of the Halvey Funeral Home(www.halveyfh.com). The community will receive
visitors at the Monastery of the Incarnation, 89 Hiddenbrooke Drive, Beacon NY
on Monday, December 15 from 2 to 4 pm and from 7 to 8:30pm. A Vigil Service
will begin at 7:30pm. Mass of the Resurrection will be offered on Tuesday,
December 16 at 11:00am in the Monastery chapel. Burial will be at Mt. St.
Alphonsus Cemetery (grounds of The Mount Academy) Route 9W, Esopus, NY at
2:30pm. In lieu of flowers it is suggested that donations
be made to Lourdes Health Care Center, 345 Belden Hill Rd., Wilton, CT 06897 in
support of their compassionate care for senior sisters.

Thursday, November 06, 2014

Around the age of 55 my knees began to give me trouble. That did not fly with my profession as librarian and teacher in middle school. Two arthroscopic knee surgeries (roto-rooter jobs cleaning out debris cause by osteoarthritis) bought me a bit more time. In the process I made friends with a cane. By the age of 61 the friendship served me well while recuperating from double knee replacement surgery. I am happy for this friendship, especially when I see disasters waiting to happen all around me.

On November 2 and 3 the New York Times ran two articles on fall risk for the elderly: "Bracing for the Falls of an Aging Nation" and "A Tiny Stumble, a Life Upended" both by Katie Hafner". These are worth reading and sharing with older friends and family. Denial reigns. The statistical risks are frightening; the complications from falls are innumerable. Yet, as the articles report, safety measures like life alert pendants, canes and walkers are resisted, often to disastrous end. When my mother, already in dementia, was 88 I told her she really needed to use a cane. Her response, "Oh no, I don't want to look like an old lady." I told her, "You already are an old lady!" When walking aides are introduced after dementia sets in it is difficult to master the habit of using them. Not habituated to reaching for her walker, my mother rose one night in assisted living to use the bathroom. Just standing beside her bed she lost her balance, fell and gashed her head on the bedside table. She lay on the floor for hours bleeding profusely. Although no bone was broken and the gash required only 6 stitches she remained in the hospital for 5 days, required time in a nursing home and is now a permanent resident there. There is something to be said for getting used to using a cane or walker while you can still master the process.

This message may seem a bit premature for me and my peers but not so. We may not need one all the time but can certainly use the assistance of a cane when conditions are treacherous - hiking in the woods, long tourist walks in unknown territory, icy conditions.

It pays to have one handy, have it sized correctly and know how to use it properly. At the age of 64 a tall healthy male friend of mine slipped on ice outdoors. He was not found for half an hour. He had dislocated his shoulder, damaged his knee and done terrible nerve damage. Two surgeries later after nine months in a nursing facility, living on narcotic painkillers and completely separated from his normal life of independent travel and teaching all over the world he is finally getting his life back. But his body will never be the same.

So pick out something useful but elegant. Keep it handy. Don't be too afraid or too proud, or like my mother too vain to use it. And know that people are very nice to those using a cane. This is especially true while traveling by air which has become an almost intolerably uncomfortable process. Ultimately it can be your best friend.

Sunday, November 02, 2014

We
have so much in common today. We have all come to remember and celebrate those
who have gone before us. Although we come in different stages of grief, with
different flavors of remembering, our interior questions are probably quite similar.
“How can I handle this? Where do I go from here?” The fortunate among us may
have had a wise soul or a spiritual guide offering a willing ear. These
treasures, like my spiritual director, share our sorrow and tears. They remind us
that Jesus who wept at the death of his friend Lazarus is a companion in our
sadness and grief. But then my spiritual director, as all good directors should
do, asked the big questions. “And what is God saying to you in all of this?
What opportunity is God asking you to find in your grief?”

Bereavement is an experience of the
loss of a presence in our lives; a presence that may have been influential, someone
involved in our lives, available and responsive. However, it is also possible
that we are grieving not only the loss of a person but also regretting the
opportunities we missed to enhance our relationship with that person while still
alive.

Since we experience so keenly now the
absence of a presence in our lives; since we may regret lost opportunities to
be present, to be in meaningful relationship with the one who is gone; could it
be that our loving God is inviting us to a new awareness of the quality of our
own presence in the lives of others? Can this invitation be translated into a
quality of presence that makes us better listeners, more generous with our time,
more compassionate in response, and much less the masterful know it all problem-solver?

Jesus was generous with his presence,
so generous that he had time to see, really see people, even to seeing into their
hearts. While in the midst of crowds he was attentive and he noticed. He
noticed the tax collector Matthew bent over his coins. He noticed Zachaeus who
had scrambled up a tree to get a better view. In both he saw a generosity of
heart invisible to others. He felt the hand of the sick woman touch his cloak
in the press of the crowd; stopped his forward momentum and took the time to
praise her faith and provide the cure she sought. And when an unnamed woman
approached him during a feast at Bethany he accepted her gestures of devotion
even when others objected. He allowed her to anoint his body with fragrant
perfume and with his words memorialized forever the depth of her love.

Speaking
of feasts – the Gospels indicate that Jesus liked dinning with his friends. He
liked to linger at table, hearing their questions and responding to them with
homey yet instructive stories. His presence was gift.

As Christians we are asked to imitate
Jesus in all things. In our sense of loss is a seed, the seed for growth in
Jesus’ quality of attentiveness to others. It is an invitation to grow into a
more radical form of personal availability, of listening, of presence than has
been our ordinary habit. This is a contemplative attitude toward relationship.
It is a Jesus attitude. It also happens to be a very timely antidote to an explosion
of communication without depth or feeling experienced this digital age. We find
ourselves participating in a frenzy of communication. I am as guilty as anyone
– busily at work as webmaster, Facebook page organizer, blog poster, e-mail
user and most recently trying to master the I-Phone.I would not give them up. These digital tools
can be used to spread the Gospel Word, to work more efficiently, to just keep
in touch. But texts, e-mail, tweets, blogs and Instagrams cannot provide an arm
around the shoulder, a listening ear, a gift of quality time in family or with
friends. Digital communication does not allow for reading the expression on a
face, the tremor in the voice, or the body language that speaks in silence.
This is the very quality of the one on one human presence, face to face, in the
now that we miss in grief for our loved one and what we may wishing we had offered
in the past.

Consider the invitation that God may
have wrapped up in your loss. Consider the invitation to a more loving quality
of attention, awareness, and availability in all of your daily interactions.
These may come at the kitchen table, in the line at the supermarket, at the
next soccer game, or when all you hear is the sound of the TV and everyone’s
head is bent over one device or another. It is a very timely appeal in our
current technological age. This is the stuff of which our spiritual lives are
made. Our response may be the finest tribute we offer in memory of our loved
one, the quality of whose presence made such a difference in our life.

Saturday, November 01, 2014

Am reading a very interesting book entitled The Vanishing Neighbor: The Transformation of the American Community by Marc J. Dunkelman, New York: Norton, 2014. This essay speaks of the quality of community that is lacking in many places these days. This Halloween memory is vivid for all who knew the Schultz family in Kingston, NY.

Mr. Shultz

Early every
morning, except for the last few months, he walked past my house headed for the
bakery and a copy of the New York Times. Rejecting jogging sneakers and shorts,
he wore all-purpose leather shoes with khaki work pants and favored the layered
look topped by a worn plaid shirt. A rumpled tan fishing hat completed the look
of a man prepared for some woodland adventure. His once tall lanky frame now
somewhat bent from academic pursuits maintained a steady unaffected stride. He
was Mr. Shultz. I never got to know him better than that because he lived a few
blocks away. He was just Mr. Shultz whose house my sons and I had visited once
a year on each of twenty Halloweens in response to the offer of cider and
doughnuts for any trick-or-treater, young or old, who needed a place to catch
his breath, hide from ghosts and goblins, or duck barrages of shaving cream.

Mr. and
Mrs. Shultz rearranged the cherry and oak antiques and Chinese porcelains in
their living room each All Hallows Eve. After covering half of the room with
painters tarps, they placed indestructible wrought iron furniture at the
periphery of the protected area and set out long maple benches laden with bowls
of doughnuts and cool, refreshing cider. Family and friends gathered to view
the costume parade from the intact end of the room while sipping an evening
cocktail. Mrs. Shultz ladled out cider. Mr. Shultz extended a warm greeting at
the door. The only requirement for visitors was that each sign the guest book
where attendance could be verified and compared to statistics kept since 1946.
Could that first Halloween open house have been a joyous celebration of
long-awaited peace, a welcome to those boys who returned from war along with
Mr. Shultz, or a tribute to the memory of past trick-or-treaters who did not
come home? I never asked.

Two days
ago, Mrs. Shultz died at the age of seventy-five. A detailed obituary in the
daily paper mentioned the Halloween open houses. Its straight forward narrative
filled out the character of Mrs. Shultz beyond that of hostess feigning fright
at diminutive ghosts and admiring awe for dainty fairies. She had graduated
from Vassar, raised four children, founded the Boys’ Club, managed a business,
sat on numerous boards, and loved Mr. Shultz for over fifty-three years. It
seemed fitting to pay our respects to Mr. Shultz on this occasion out of sync
with the annual round but in memory of that Halloween hostess and accomplished
woman.

At Carr’s
Funeral home, a daughter greeted us. We explained that we had been Halloween
visitors. She replied, “Isn’t it wonderful that the paper included that in the
obituary. Of course, my father wrote it.” Turning from another conversation,
Mr. Shultz took my hand in immediate recognition and acknowledged my son.
“We’ve come in memory of Halloween, “ I said. “Oh, I’m so glad. Wasn’t it great
of them to put it in the paper. Did you sign the book?” We nodded. My son said,
“I should have written that we came because of Halloween.” “Oh, please do
that,” said Mr. Shultz, “we’d love it.” He continued to hold my hand as another
daughter approached saying, “I see that Kermit the Frog has arrived.” My son
and I marveled at her memory. We chattered in a highly self-conscious struggle
to express the heartfelt. Mr. Shultz seemed a little more bent, pale and lost.
Our hands had parted as he spoke of not knowing what to do about Halloween. I
told him that the obituary was beautiful and that his wife’s achievements had
impressed me so. Unexpectedly my eyes filled with tears and my lips quivered a
bit as I praised her accomplishments and devotion. Mr. Shultz’s face began to
glow, his features becoming more animated. As we said our “good-byes”, he
expressed his gratitude for Halloween visitors. I took his hand to shake in
parting, a final gesture of sympathy for the loss of his wife. He raised it to
his lips and kissed it. With eyes steadfastly focused on mine, he said, “Thank
you”, appreciating me for appreciating her.

Thursday, October 16, 2014

Long ago a promise was made here to attend to the Boomer experience; to reflect upon the relationship of this generation, a generation in or entering retirement, to the slice of population born before them, the younger generations that follow them, as well as the social and cultural reality in which they live.

The image of a sandwich has been used as metaphor for the experience of this generation in between. I prefer the image of the famed Oreo cookie. What is the experience of being the filler in this generational alignment while surrounded by a contextual smorgasbord including technological revolution, economic shift, constant war, realities of aging, global warming, the ebola virus, etc., etc., etc.?

Why propose the image of the Oreo? The filler in an Oreo does not rest between two yielding slices of soft bread. The filler attempts to meld two unyielding firm and demanding cookies. In addition, its sweetness is to soften the more blunt flavor of chocolate striving to assert itself.

This is a vision of the Boomer reality experienced by many these days. Many are trying to be lovingly, responsibly and appropriately in relationship with the generation that came before us (parents and other older relatives or friends) and the generation which came from us, now our adult children. As in the Oreo cookie, we either take on or have cast upon us the task of supporting or holding together this generational mix. And like the cookie filler we are to be a sweet, pliable, and present and wise element of the structure.

Most recent posts touched upon the cause of world peace, issues in the Church, history, social commentary and more. However, the events of my personal life in last five months call me to ponder this Oreo phenomenon. As Boomer well into the last years of my life the experience of the Oreo filler is mine. The most recent episodes follow all too rapidly on the heels of placing my mother in an assisted living facility, supporting Hospice care for my father in his home, experiencing his death, selling the family home and dealing with the collections of their life time.

Future posts will tell the story in more detail. The story is presented at least in part as a cautionary tale for the Boomer and for the generations that surround them. But here I will merely post the remembrance/obituary piece I wrote two weeks ago upon the death of my mother's brother.

In Remembrance of Joseph Milazzo

Joseph Milazzo peacefully slipped
away in the morning of October 3, 2014 at Putnam Ridge Nursing Home, Brewster,
NY following a brief but serious illness. He was 82 years old. Following a
physical collapse in Florida on July 20th and hospitalization, he
was moved to Brewster on August 13, 2014.

Joseph was born on December 1,
1931 in Brooklyn, NY.His parents were
Rosalia Galante and Frank Milazzo, both natives of Castellammare del Golfo,
Sicily. He is survived by his older sister, Matilda Nimke, widow of Helmut Eric
Nimke. Matilda now resides at Putnam Ridge Nursing Home. He also leaves his
nieces Sister Hildegard Pleva, OSsR of Beacon, NY and Commander Rosalinda
Hasselbacher, US Navy Nurse Corps Ret., of Shelton, CT as well as four
grand-nephews Jonathan, Matthew and Andrew Pleva and Erich Hasselbacher, their
spouses and five great-grand nieces and nephews.

It has been arranged with Halvey
Funeral Home, 24 Willow St., Beacon, NY 12508, that the family will gather at
the funeral home at 10:30am on Wednesday, October 8, 2014. At 11am there will
be a brief prayer service at which Fr. Richard Smith, pastor of St. Joachim and
St. John’s Parish in Beacon will preside. Immediately following we will proceed
to St. John's Cemetery, 80-01 Metropolitan Ave., Middle Village, NY 11379) in
Queens. Uncle Joe will be buried in the grave of his mother who died in 1932 at
the age of 29 just three months after his birth. There is something very
touching in this reunion of the two of them.

My Uncle and all his Brooklyn
buddies who I remember from my growing up years are in many ways
like characters from a Damon Runyon story but with a Sicilian/Brooklyn
accent. My Uncle began life in the Depression with many strikes again him so he
was not what I call a 'straight line kid.' Did not finish high school; went
from one unskilled job to another; was drafted during the Korean War and served
in Germany. He did get a GED and finally, through a friend of my parents, began
a job working as an apprentice in the carpet trade. Slowly and with much hard
work he rose through the Union ranks and became a skilled carpet mechanic with
the ability to lay intricate designs in wall to wall carpeting. He would come
home and talk about doing work for the likes of Claudette Colbert and Lena
Horne. After his retirement he took on the pattern of a snow bird, living in
Brooklyn during the late spring and summer months and returning to his condo in
Margate, Florida to enjoy being on the beach with his many friends every day.
He eventually took up permanent residence in Margate.

He was only 15 years older than my
sister and I so he was the young gay blade who taught us how to dance the
cha-cha and how to let the man lead on the dance floor. When my sister went off
to St. Vincent's Nursing School in Greenwich Village in 1968 it was an awful
neighborhood and he knew that sooner or later she would be out and about in a threatening
neighborhood and meeting with friends at the local hangouts. She recently
shared that before she left for nursing school Uncle Joe said that if she
ever had a problem or got into a fix she did not want to drag her parents into
she just had to call him and he would be there. This was the type of presence
he offered in the family.

He had a beautiful girl friend
before he was drafted and kept to his death an album of all their pictures
while dating. I believe he received a "Dear John letter" from her
while he was in the Army and it broke his heart. He always had a woman in his
life, women he could bring home, but he never married.

He worked very hard, enjoyed life,
loved good food and had many friends. But he saved money and played the market.
When he knew the market had gotten beyond him he placed his money in wise
investments. So his generous gifts in life will be matched by bequests in death
leaving a legacy which will enrich the lives of those he loved.

He was known as "Joey Blue
Eyes". He was a generous friend, treated his ladies with dignity and
respect as a gentleman. He loved his sister and her husband, my parents, and
called them from Florida every Saturday. And he loved his nieces and their
children.After his collapse on July 20th of this year, even in his
dismay at his deteriorating condition in hospital and nursing home, he remained
concerned about others and grateful for care. He was always inquiring as to
what or where I had eaten and if I was a feeling comfortable in his condo and finding
everything I needed.

We did everything we could for him
but something else was winning the race and finally he just slipped away.

I see now that the act of writing
has been the creation of a more intimate obituary than is usual. I share it
with you to give a sense of the man.

There will not be a Mass because
he was only a weddings and funerals type of church-goer. But he was good and
loved by God and conquered many demons in his life, I am sure. And "now he
knows." The prayers offered at the funeral home and cemetery will be as
much for those he leaves behind as they are for him as his ‘awareness’ expands
to all eternity.

Sr. Theresa Kane is
currently teaching at Mercy College in Dobbs Ferry, NY. She resides at Marian
Woods, an assisted living facility for women religious. In 1978 she was
appointed to deliver words of welcome to Pope John Paul II at the Basilica of
the Immaculate Conception in Washington, D.C. At the time she was serving as
president of the Leadership Conference of Women Religious (LCWR).The event
received world-wide media coverage. In her remarks she raised the topic of
issues pertinent to women including reference to consideration of access by
women to all of the ministerial roles in the Church including ordained
priesthood. Her remarks were startling and brought on a storm of response on
all sides of the issue. Below appear my notes of her remarks at the ACWR meeting.

Quoting retired Bishop
Hubbard (Diocese of Albany) Sr. Teresa spoke of consecrated religious life as
an expression of “evangelical daring”. Upon reflection she moved from the
singular form of the year’s title to the plural form “years of consecrated
life”. Prior to her famed remarks to Pope John Paul II in 1978, the United
Nations had declared the first UN “Year of the Woman”. Thus consideration of
the dedication and possibilities of women’s lives is many years old.

The presentation as
outlined was to include the topics of genesis of the word “consecrated”; how
“consecration is to be understood in current conversation”; and important
implications for consecrated life including the Second Vatican Council, the
role of laity, and the consequences of consecrated life.

Consecration comes
with a blessing. It is the vehicle of covenant resulting in mutual blessing.

Recent history
regarding the Apostolic Visitation of congregations of women religious in the
United States instituted by the Congregation for Institutes of Consecrated Life
and Societies of Apostolic Life (CICLSAL) was reviewed and it was suggested
that declaration of the “Year of Consecrated Life” was an effort on the part of
CICLSAL to quietly put that controversy to rest.

Second Vatican Council

The Council did not
spring full blown out of the mind of Pope John XXIII. It came from a vision and
a spirit of anticipation among scholars and theologians beginning in the 1930s
and 1940s. The Council engendered new emphasis on religious ecumenism,
religious freedom, participation of the laity as expressed in “Lumen Gentium”,
a Council document, and the concept of community replacing the prevalent
concept of institution. Where ‘institution’ has features of organization,
structure, systems, management, purpose and, in terms of the Church, leadership
by a pyramid of hierarchy. In contrast, the concept of ‘community’ presents a
discipleship of equals, a spirit of liberalism and the notion that the entire
community is consecrated.

Laity

Lay people are 90% of
the Church community. The movement from the tradition institutional concept to
that of community declared a new dignity of inclusion for the vast majority of
the People of God.

Consequences
of Religious Consecration

The consequences of
living a life of religious consecration are a Gospel way of living, service to
those most in need and a quality of prophecy.

1.Gospel Way of Living – Consecrated religious life is a valid Spirit-driven life style that
does not have its origins in an institution but is lived in parallel to an
institution. Since consecrated life is Spirit-driven it can often be in tension
with systems of religion especially in areas of business and governance because
it is a radical departure from the standard values of society and culture.
These values include ownership. Wealth, independence, and lives not determined
in an autonomous fashion. The communal stress in consecrated life is a
Spirit-driven mystery following the Gospel way of life which requires:

*
prayer, solitude and contemplation

*
community

*
service

2.Apostolic Service – Service to the poor within the context of the belief that “the poor
are to be agents of their own destiny” to overcome oppression by both the
Church and the government. Choices for ministry reflect a “preferential option
for the poor”.

3.Prophecy –
Requires contemplation, the courage of one’s convictions, and development of
conscience followed by respect for the primacy of personal conscience in
discernment.

In this way we atone;
we become ‘at one’ with ourselves, in relationship with others, with all of
humankind and with all of creation.